


Magic in Mementos

by KelpieChaos



Category: Persona 5, Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor
Genre: Abel thinks he's adorable, Abel's a brat but really who didn't know that, Akira is a useless gay, Akira's an exhibitionist but who didn't know that, Anal Sex, Biting, Bondage, Exhibitionism, Joker might be cool but Akira certainly isn't, King of Bel!Kazuya, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Topping from the Bottom, bottom!abel, magic used in improper ways, some fudged game mechanics, top!Akira, you'd be surprised how few demons are in common between persona 5 and devil survivor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 14:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20292883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpieChaos/pseuds/KelpieChaos
Summary: A rainy day starts out beyond boring for Akira, and ends with an otherworldly experience he never could have anticipated.





	Magic in Mementos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinereous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinereous/gifts), [habenaria_radiata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/habenaria_radiata/gifts).

> Thank you so much [foxjar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxjar/pseuds/Yusuke) for being my wonderful beta on this! You're a blessing!
> 
> Radi and Cinereous, this was a labor of love (and I'm so glad it's over ily).

The rain pattered quietly against his window as Akira sat and tinkered at his desk. They didn’t really need any more tools, but there wasn’t much else for him to do. They’d already finished Haru’s dad’s palace, and all that was left was waiting for the change of heart. They’d done all the requests Mishima sent. His phone had been mysteriously silent, no invitations blowing his chat up. He had gone down his contact list, checking if anyone was free, but everyone said they already had plans. He had even stopped by Rafflesia and the convenience store to see if they needed help and was told he didn’t need to come in.

When did his jobs _not_ want him to come in?

Akira sighed, putting down the half-finished lockpick. Morgana wasn’t around to bother him about the mess; he had gone with Futaba to Akihabara to see the release of some new Featherman movie. Futaba had said something about how she only could get one ticket, so she took Morgana instead of them both.

Maybe Sojiro wanted some help.

He levered himself up, trying to guess how many people were downstairs from the sound. Usually rainy days were pretty barren, but it sounded like he would be lucky to see two people other than Boss himself today.

…Maybe he could convince Sojiro to teach him how to make his signature curry.

The goal put energy back into his steps, and he quickly crossed to the stairs. He could bring the extra curry to Yusuke later, make sure that he actually had food for once. Or he could invite him over, Yusuke usually liked the excuse to see _Sayuri_.

A sharp _fizzle-pop!_ from behind him froze him in his tracks.

“Well that doesn’t seem right,” a bright voice lilted.

Akira stilled his breathing, holding as still as possible. How did someone get in his room? He’s standing in the stairway!

Slowly, calling on the same skills he used to ambush Shadows, Akira turned around.

And was met with the back of a black cape, two wire points rising above its tall collar. Akira could just make out wisps of blue hair between the wires. They were standing in the middle of the room, luckily facing away from where Akira was crouched half a step down the staircase.

“I wonder where I’ve landed this time…” the stranger hummed, looking from Akira’s bed to desk to window.

Anyone out to get him that could just magically show up would probably know what his room looked like. Akira shoved his hands in his pockets and relaxed back, leaning against the end of the railing. He just watched, almost blandly curious, as his sudden interloper reached up to fiddle with one of the wires. To say something or not…

“Is it too obvious if I say ‘in my room’?” To say something, apparently.

The cape caught the air as the stranger jumped a foot in the air and spun around like a startled cat. Or, Akira thought, like Morgana that time Ryuji hadn’t realized the small thief was sleeping when he came upstairs yelling for Akira. It drifted down around the boy’s – and they were a boy, about his own age if Akira was judging right – body, not quite settling, like a localized breeze kept it fluffed in alarm.

Wide, bright red eyes met his own, and Akira couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath. They weren’t the muddled reddish-brown that Makoto or that detective had; instead, they reminded him of the vibrant shade of the red roses he worked with. Akira barely registered the headphones that led to the wires he noted earlier, near caught by the slowly relaxing crimson gaze.

The boy cocked his head, smirking with an effortless charm. “Your room, you say?” He purred. He took a gliding step forwards, edging into Akira’s personal space due to the size of the attic. “And who might you be?”

Akira had to drag his thoughts together – and away from the immediate impulse to say _‘your next meal, if you want’_ – but he managed to find his usual nonchalant air. If anything, he probably should figure out who just popped into his room before jumping him.

Akira forced himself to stay loose and shrug, an artless motion meant more to dismiss than provide an answer. “Just a student,” he replied smoothly.

Delighted laughter burst from his guest.

“’Just a student’ he says,” the boy giggled, making his cape dance in the air. “How about this,” he drew even closer, ducking his head to send a playfully flirtatious look. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?”

His eyes sparkled with innocent fun, but something about his grin made Akira pause. He’d like to think he’d honed a healthy sense for danger the past few months, and his instincts were starting to sit up and whisper _caution_.

But let it never be said that Akira didn’t like a bit of danger.

“Yeah?” It might have come out a bit more breathlessly than Akira wanted. Just possibly. A small chance, really, almost nonexistent. He hummed, overdramatically pretending to think about his answer. His heart ticked faster as the boy’s grin widened, obviously picking up on his game. “How about you go first, then? Since this _is_ my room.”

“Oh, of course, where _are_ my manners?” The stranger sketched a shallow, impish bow in the bare space between them, and took a step back. “I,” he announced, gesturing grandly, hands spread wide and confidently audacious, “am Abel, King of Bel.” He winked at Akira. “At your service.”

Akira had to fight for control, laughter at the boy’s – Abel’s – dramatics nearly breaking his infamous poker face. Abel, huh? And what kind of title was ‘King of Bel’?

He gave Abel an imperious nod, one a king would use to acknowledge a visiting dignitary. “A pleasure, Abel,” he greeted. “My name’s Akira.”

He couldn’t stop the wild grin as Abel broke down into giggles again. This almost felt like negotiating with a Shadow, but where he couldn’t say the wrong thing.

“So, Abel,” he started, “what did I do to deserve this gracious visit? It’s not every day a simple student like me gets visited by royalty.”

Akira had expected snickering, another round in the verbal game they’d started, but an air of solemnity fell around Abel, smothering the mischievous mood they’d built.

Oops. Guess he could still stick his foot in his mouth. Hopefully this _wasn’t_ like negotiating with a Shadow. He didn’t want Abel to leave just yet. Or beat him up. But mostly he didn’t want him to leave.

Abel chewed on his lip, hand raising to play with the edge of his cloak. “Oh, well,” he said, “would it sound weird if I said I was trying to find my way home?”

“You were trying to get home and instead popped into my room by mistake?” Akira couldn’t say it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard, but it certainly gave ‘running around in people’s distorted desires to steal their hearts’ a run for its money.

Abel shrugged noncommittedly, evidently not interested in explaining himself further.

“Well,” Akira let the word drift into the growing silence, “do you know why you ended up in my room? I might be able to help you troubleshoot.”

Abel’s head snapped up, excitement starting to tinge his expression again.

“Hey, yeah, you’re right!” He skittered back into Akira’s space. “You wouldn’t happen to know what magnetite is, would you?”

“Magnetite?” Akira repeated dumbly. He was much more used to being pop quizzed on philosophy and history, or maybe math when his teachers got sick of those, and it took a few seconds of staring blankly at Abel before something clicked. “Oh, like, the rock?”

Abel pulled a face at him, scrunching up his nose beyond adorably. “No. Or well, yes, it is a rock, but not the magnetite I’m talking about. That’s a different thing.”

He waved his hands between them. Blue sparkles fell from his fingertips, falling only to get caught in an intangible breeze swirling around them. Slowly, the air took on a greenish tinge around the dancing sparks, brightest around their bodies and fading to a dim glow a few inches out.

Akira watched as the air currents shifted around them, the light closest to him pulsing slightly with his heartbeat. Curious, he raised a hand, noting the trail of green that followed the move. He traced shapes in the air, then tried to write his name with the glow. His motions didn’t seem to disturb the flow of sparkles around them, even when he tried to fan them around. They just continued to dance a sedate path, disappearing into the green when too close to his skin.

“Okay,” he breathed, “that’s cool.”

Abel laughed lightly. “Right?” He flicked his fingers, and the sparks died out bit by bit. The green stayed a few seconds longer before fading as well, like the afterimage of the sun on his eyelids. “_That’s_ magnetite,” Abel said, smug.

Akira could feel the grin splitting his face. That was certainly an impressive light show, never mind that it was one of the prettiest things Akira had seen. He slipped his hand back into this pocket, almost sad it was back to normal. Refocusing on the evidently magical boy in front of him, Akira couldn’t help but ask, “So tell me then, Mr. Magician, what’s it do?”

Pursing his lips in deliberation, Abel dramatically tapped a finger on his chin. “Usually it allows demons to manifest in our realm, reality, whatever. But this world’s magnetite feels different.”

“Wait,” Akira leaned forwards, catching Abel’s eye. “Demons? You mean like…Mothman? Or Decarabia and Nekomata?”

Abel perked up, and Akira swore that he saw the headphone wires twitch like cat ears.

“Exactly! So you do have demons?” Abel bounced on his toes, excited as a child at the promise of candy.

Akira nodded, amused at Abel’s glee. Ann and the others were never this delighted about Shadows.

“We do, but we call them Shadows. Or Personas, depending on the context, I guess. They exist in the Metaverse. In Mementos and in Palaces, when they form.” Akira probably shouldn’t say his next thought, Morgana would kill him if he found out he’d gone without the team.

That wasn’t going to stop him though; they wouldn’t go far anyway.

Probably.

Turning a thousand watt smile on Abel, and watching him slowly return it with anticipation, Akira offered, “Want me to show you?”

* * *

“I’ve got so many questions I don’t even know where to start!”

Akira watched Abel spin around in the Memento’s entrance. He was nearly vibrating, and he couldn’t quite seem to pick a spot to examine, flitting from wall to escalator to entrance and back to the wall. He traced the red vines that crawled up from the lower floors, nearly petting them.

Akira moved next to Justine to stay out of his way, exchanging an entertained glance with her. He was glad that Caroline had stayed inside the Velvet Room; he was sure that she would have given him an earful about bringing a stranger into Mementos.

“Why don’t you pick your favorite, and we can go from there?” Akira called, looking down to casually pull at a glove, resettling it. For gloves made of his own cognition, they certainly shifted uncomfortably more often than he’d like. He glanced up at where Abel was last, only to find him leaning in barely an inch from his own face.

“Holy shit!”

Akira tripped backwards, arms flailing for balance and failing to find it, landing hard on his ass as his heel caught a crack on the floor. He managed to prevent his head from hitting the ground with an instinctive half-roll, but only just.

He lay there, stunned. Had he really just hit the ground harder than he has in battle in _months_ just because Abel gave him a little startle?

The state of his back said yes. So did the nearly smothered snickers from just beyond his line of sight.

Akira shut his eyes and wished for the floor to swallow him, but, when that didn’t happen, he gave up and started to push himself back to his feet.

Laughter surrounded him as he slowly stood up, rubbing at his now-sore tailbone. Abel’s loud cackling covered Justine’s quieter giggles, but he could tell she was laughing at him, too, behind her clipboard. He stuck his tongue out at her, not that it did much except make her laugh harder. He dusted himself off with sullen pats, glad that at least his team wasn’t here to see their _fearless leader_ fall on his ass from a mild surprise at best.

Petulantly crossing his arms, Akira turned to Abel, pouting when it only caused him to laugh harder.

“You – your _face_ – oh my _god_,” Abel gasped out between bouts, clutching at his stomach. “That was _hilarious_, you were so _surprised_, and then – and then when you hit the _ground_,” he dissolved back into helpless laughter.

Akira felt the corner of his mouth tick up, Abel’s laughter contagious. It had probably looked pretty funny. Especially with his coattails flying everywhere, as he knew they did.

Shaking his head, Akira let the act drop, grin breaking over his face both at the embarrassment of the fall and Abel’s mirth.

“Yeah, okay, not my most graceful moment,” he admitted.

Abel moved towards him, still giggling in quiet bursts. “Here,” he started, hand raised and starting to sparkle, “lemme heal you a bit, I’m sure that hurt.”

He automatically stepped around Justine and the edge of the Velvet Room, then stopped, blinking. His hand fell slowly as he cocked his head slightly, looking much like a cat trying to figure out where a mouse hid. He scrunched his nose, sneezed, and turned a sharp 90 degrees to face the Velvet Room.

Head still cocked curiously, Abel reached forwards, his hand phasing straight through the blue door. He pulled it back, absently rubbing his fingers together.

“There’s something here, isn’t there?” He asked, eyes still focused on the empty air in front of him. “It’s not – I can’t access it, it feels like it’s hidden from me? But also like it’s connected to my realm – the demon realm, that is. Or well, maybe not connected per se. Mirrors? Balances, maybe.”

“You can see it?” Akira was surprised; his team usually just walked straight through it when they were around.

“No,” Abel shook his head, backing away and glancing at Akira. “I honestly couldn’t even tell it was there until I almost collided with it. What is it?”

Akira opened his mouth to explain, then closed it when he caught Justine furiously glaring at him and shaking her head. She obviously did _not_ want Akira to share.

Akira frowned, confused. Justine never had cared about him talking about the Velvet Room to his friends, so why Abel?

“I…don’t think I’m supposed to tell you?” Akira hedged.

Justine immediately relaxed, no longer silently shooting threats at him and just watching Abel with new quiet caution.

Abel, however, immediately pouted. He looked like he was about to argue, but Akira interrupted with a shrug before he could start.

“Don’t ask me, I don’t make the rules.”

Abel pouted for a few more seconds, then shot a glance surprisingly close to where Justine stood.

“Okay…” he dragged out. He spun to face Akira, skipping to grab his wrist and tug him over to the escalators. “Then you have to show me around the depths! And answer aaaaaaaall my other questions!”

Laughing, Akira acquiesced. Not bothering to retrieve his captured hand, he started down an escalator. “What are we waiting for then?”

* * *

They might have gone a bit further than Akira was planning.

It wasn’t entirely his fault, or at least that’s what he was telling himself. Abel was just so curious and wanted to explore _everything_. And it was fascinating watching the Shadows interact with him. Akira was used to the weaker shadows running away as soon as they saw him, and the stronger ones trying to ambush him.

He wasn’t expecting them to come up to Abel and start chattering like children, completely ignoring Akira himself.

He certainly wasn’t expecting Abel to light up and start cooing over them.

Akira watched as Abel sweet-talked Pixie, played with Jack Frost, and pet Orthrus. It was the easiest Akira had ever gone through Mementos, and he couldn’t refuse Abel when he wanted to keep going. Usually he was tired and sore by the time the Thieves had gotten this far, but he was hale and hearty now, so what was the harm?

Apparently, the harm was Abel getting tired of flirting with the Shadows and starting to flirt with him.

“You know,” Abel turned to walk backwards so he could smirk at Akira, “I gotta say I love the mask. Makes you look mysterious, like a gentleman aiming to dance the night away with the king’s kid and then disappear into the mist with their heart at midnight.”

There really wasn’t any reason not to play along, Akira figured. It wasn’t like any of the Shadows were going to attack them, and they were still far enough from the bottom that none of the stronger Shadows were even around. Besides, this was _fun._

Akira splayed a hand on his chest, stumbling to a stop with a dramatic gasp, as if he was grievously insulted. “Abel! How _scandalous_. I would _never_.” He paused to let a cheshire smile grow to match Abel’s. His previously playfully wide, shocked eyes drifted into a slow, sultry wink. “This Cinderella would make sure to get his night’s worth first, at the _very_ least.”

“Oh, of course.” Abel graciously agreed, smoothly changing direction to prowl towards where Akira had stopped. “But would our _dear_ Cinderella make his prince dance the night away first, courting with honeyed words and fleeting touches, or would a more direct path be appreciated?”

On his last word, Abel drew nose-to-nose with Akira, the scant air between them warmer than it should be from just their body heat. Bright crimson met dark silver, daring and asking in equal measure. Mementos around them seemed to hold its breath, Shadows stilling, wind ceasing, waiting on edge for the decision.

With a sigh from crooked lips, the world breathed again. Akira let his chin tip up and off to the side, exposing the soft line of skin under his jaw as the soft exhale drifted across Abel’s lips. Watching from the corner of slit eyelids, Akira purposefully relaxed backwards, a half-hidden smirk inviting Abel to chase him.

Akira never denied that he loved the thrill of the hunt.

And he certainly never said that he only enjoyed being the hunter.

“Hmm,” Abel laughed, leaning in to brush his lips along the exposed jawline, feeling the shudder Akira doesn’t bother to stop. “That looks like permission to me.” Stalking forwards, slow steps and gentle crowding, Abel pushed Akira against the wall, caging him in without a single touch.

“And if it was, my Prince?” Akira murmured.

“Then, my lovely Cinderella…”

Abel brought one of Akira’s hands to his mouth. Biting at the very tips of leather covered fingers, Abel removed the bright red glove and let it fall to the floor with a soft sound. He swept feathery kisses across Akira’s knuckles, the picture of gentlemanly respect but for the fire in his eyes when they met Akira’s own.

“…Let’s dance.”

Their lips crashed together, teeth clacking for a brief moment. Abel pushed forwards, hands gathering Akira’s and pinning them above his head as he took control of the kiss. Akira gasped into the kiss, instinctively pulling on his wrists and finding no give in Abel’s grip.

“That’s a-“ His breath hitched, Abel kissing along his jaw to the sensitive spot in the corner. “Ngh, fuck, that’s an – _ah!_ – impressive grip you’ve got, Abel. You do this often?”

Apparently satisfied with the mark he left, Abel grinned at him. “Is it? I suppose when you’re strong enough to deck a couple angels, holding down one human is easy enough.”

Akira felt himself stare, panting, as he processed that. Abel just said he’s fought angels, didn’t he. Like, actual, real, _divine_ angels?

“God_damn_.”

Akira launched himself at Abel, leveraging his body against his captive wrists to wrap both legs around Abel’s hips and drag him back into a desperate kiss. He tasted Abel’s laughter, the sound sacrilegious music Akira was eager to follow. He licked into Abel’s mouth, exploring the sharp points of Abel’s canines and soft glide of his tongue.

Abel let him explore, nearly purring as Akira’s breath hitched and body squirmed, begging for more. With slow deliberation, Abel trailed his free hand up Akira’s body, smoothing over the hard planes of his stomach and chest, to the hidden zipper at his collar. He played with it, gently tugging as if to unzip it but never actually pulling it open. He dipped the tips of his fingers under the collar, tracing the taut muscles underneath.

Whining, but refusing to break the kiss, Akira pulled at his wrists. If he could only get a hand free he could get rid of his vest himself, and those maddening touches could turn into something solid.

But instead, Abel pulled back.

_Why_ the _fuck_ did Abel pull back?

“Did you want something?” Abel asked, as if he didn’t still have a hand teasing at Akira’s zipper, as if his impish grin didn’t say he knew _exactly_ what Akira wanted.

A breathless laugh breaking free, Akira thunked his head back against the wall, watching Abel through lowered eyelashes. He could feel his heart pounding, and Abel’s body was molten heat between his thighs, but the near frantic energy in his body was settling now that he had a chance to breathe.

Perhaps taking a second was a good idea.

They had until the clock struck midnight, after all.

Thoughts coalescing from the scattered corners they had run to, Akira made a plan.

“I might,” he purred. “But I have to admit, I’m worried about my dress.”

“Your dress?” Abel blinked, thrown. His hold on Akira loosened a bit, but only enough Akira thought he could rotate his hands.

“Mmmhm. It’s magic, you know. I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

Only way to avoid that was to strip. Which he needed his hands for. And then on to Phase 2.

A feline smile bloomed across Abel’s face, and his eyes darted up to where Akira had been slowly pulling a hand free. He reestablished his grip on Akira’s wrists and met Akira’s gaze with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. His free hand entered Akira’s peripheral vision, fingers poised to snap and already sparking with magic.

…Phase 2 wasn’t going to happen, was it. He wasn’t getting his hands back until Abel felt good and ready.

Akira almost hoped Abel never felt ready.

“Magic, you say?” Abel hummed, faux thoughtful. “You wouldn’t mind me showing off a bit, would you? In order to save your dress from being ruined.”

Abel winked, and Akira just shook his head soundlessly, words of agreement stuck in his suddenly dry throat.

“Excellent.”

A sharp _snap_ and Akira felt magic whoosh over him, a warm breeze full of static electricity and the smell of ozone. His eyes had closed instinctively, but they snapped open as fingers trailed lightly over his bare skin. His vest had disappeared, leaving him bare-chested and vulnerable. Akira felt goosebumps ripple down his spine, Abel’s fingers lighting up the nerves on his stomach with sparks of hot pleasure.

“How’s that for magic?” Abel asked, tracing Akira’s abs back up to settle his hand flat on Akira’s chest. Though there was no extra pressure on it, Akira felt like it was pinning him to the wall through its sheer presence.

Akira swallowed, dragging his thoughts away from that warm hand against his sweat slick skin, so close yet so far from teasing at his nipples.

“Nifty,” he managed, almost normal sounding, though falling far short of the unimpressed tone he was shooting for. “But I’ve seen better from street performers.”

Delighted laughter spilt between them, Abel apparently not offended at the challenge. A grin grew underneath sparkling crimson eyes, sharp and dangerous and _hungry_ as a shark’s.

“Have you, now? Well, then.” Abel leaned back. “How’s this?”

Wind whipped around Akira, and gravity seemed to warp. His breath was stolen from his lungs, leaving his gasping in the crackle-pop of the swirling magic. Disoriented, Akira barely felt Abel’s hands push gently against Akira’s wrists and chest. Gradually the wind died down, and Abel took a step back, out of Akira’s leg lock.

Akira blindly jerked after him, his heart skipping.

Only he didn’t move.

“…what…?” Akira whispered, blinking. He glanced up at his hands, still crossed above his head. They were securely held against the wall despite Abel letting go. Akira pulled on one of them, gently, then harder as it didn’t move. It felt like the air itself was holding his wrists in place. Like it was holding his entire body in place actually, he realized, as none of his limbs moved from their positions no matter how hard he pulled. And he hadn’t fallen, though nothing physical supported his weight.

Akira felt his breaths shortening, air getting thinner as heat flooded him. He was caught, unable to move even a few trembling inches in any direction. Lightheaded, he felt as blood flushed from his face down over his shoulders and rushed further south.

Abel dragged his hands up his thighs, effortlessly repositioning him to spread his thighs and stepping close between them. He smirked like a cat staring down a canary, playful menace nearly dripping from him.

“Is this more impressive, my Cinderella?” He purred, hands drawing loose spirals along Akira’s inner thighs.

Akira was pretty sure how hard he was – not even an inch from Abel’s body, he _had_ to know – answered that question.

He was also pretty sure he didn’t know where his tongue was to give Abel the answer he waited for.

Abel just stood there though, seemingly perfectly content to wind Akira up with light touches and teasing heat. His hands traced the lines of Akira’s muscles, impressing curlicues up his thighs and over his hips. A moment to fit his palms around his hips, thumbs pressing into the hollows there under his pants and riding the desperate hitch, then Abel smoothed them higher.

Akira felt himself push into those hands, a whine escaping his muddled thoughts. Fuck, he needed words. He needed Abel to do _more_.

Abel traced delicate-there circles around Akira’s nipples, watching goosebumps bloom across the skin under his hands with a content smirk. Lazy, lust-blown eyes met Akira’s blurry own, and the smirk grew sharp edges.

“Did you want something?” Abel asked, smug and taunting.

“_Fuck me_.”

Oh, that’s where his words were. Having found them again, Akira thunked his head back against the wall, near insensibly mumbling them over and over. He pushed his body against the magical bonds, trying to get closer to Abel’s heat. Jittery sparks pulsed through his blood, but Abel somehow seemed even warmer, like he had the fires of hell contained inside himself. Abel’s hands on his chest weren’t nearly enough to properly feel all that. Akira wanted it _everywhere_.

“Oh? Is that what you want?” Able teased.

Akira found that he had one more word: “_Yes!”_

A bright smile grew across Abel’s face, crinkling his eyes and exposing sharp canines. Near childlike delight made him glow, stunning Akira, before very adult hunger debauched it.

“Your wish is my command,” he purred.

Leaning in, Abel brushed feathery kisses along Akira’s neck. He paused to suck at the bruise he’d left under Akira’s jaw, darkening it further. Trailing his way back down, he breathed hotly against Akira’s skin, dragging the points of his teeth, scoring the skin with sensation. He pressed sharp nips along his collarbones, small roses of color following him.

Akira was losing his goddamn mind.

The flashes of almost pain sent goosebumps skittering down his spine. Every time those teeth touched him, he braced for a bite, gasping when instead all he got was soft nibbles or brief nips. He was pressed against the wall by Abel’s body, branded where Abel’s fingers dug into his ribs. Pleasure flooded him in electric waves as Abel ground gently against him, pushing the material of his pants against him, soaking it with his precome. He was dimly aware of his breath hitching, of the half-formed whines dripping from his lips like prayers, of how he pushed into every move Abel made.

Of how Abel _still wasn’t moving fast enough_.

Akira blinked open wet eyes, fuzzily staring at the ceiling as he tried to drag focus away from how Abel was pressing open-mouthed kisses down his chest. He needed… He needed to tell Abel…something. His eyes slipped back closed with a whine as Abel thumbed a nipple, gently circling the other with his tongue, hot breath washing over his chest in a puff of laughter.

“Hmm, we’re gathering quite the audience here.”

Gentle fingers pushed his head to the side, and Akira blearily looked around. Shadows had gathered in a rough half-circle around them, jostling and chattering to themselves. How Akira hadn’t heard them, he didn’t know. Fire flooded his face; here he was spread out and begging, and an increasing amount of the public’s subconscious was watching him lose himself. And getting off on it, if he was seeing the motion of them right.

His head hit the wall as a moan ripped itself from him.

“You’re giving them such a show, Akira, just look at them. Do you think they’re jealous?” Humming, Abel dragged his pants off him, exposing him fully to the Shadows. “What do you say about really giving them something to watch?”

Abel’s knees hit the ground and Akira’s cock hit the back of his throat.

Akira choked on a gasp, wet hot suction destroying any response he might have had. He squirmed in the magic’s hold, legs thrown over Abel’s shoulders and unable to pull him closer. Abel swallowed slowly around him, pulled back like he didn’t need to breathe then sunk down again like he wanted to taste every inch. Humming, he trailed barely there hands across his skin, chasing goosebumps and shivers from thigh to stomach to chest and back, enthusiastic bobbing never hesitating. Akira heaved, the thick air of Mementos viscous in this throat and lungs, hot enough that his panting only spurred on the fire building between his legs.

The Shadows were tittering to themselves, pressing closer and falling back like they wanted to touch but didn’t want to test Abel’s tolerance. Their gazes burned, and his heart pounded. Torn between splaying out to show off and curling around the pleasure so sharp he wasn’t sure it wasn’t pain, and unable to do either, Akira fretfully tossed his head, stuttering out strangled words he barely heard.

“A-ahh-Abel! Abel, I’m – I’m cl-close, _ah_, please, don’t, I c-can’t - ah!”

Abel swallowed him to the root, kept swallowing around him until tinny ringing was all Akira could hear. Then, Abel winked up at him, smirking around his cock.

Incandescent flames roared through him, and white spots bloomed on the back of Akira’s eyelids as he came down Abel’s throat. Sobbing, he shook as pulse after pulse dragged desire like nails along his nerves. Endless moments later, he felt Abel stand, gently maneuvering him onto his back on Mementos’ floor. A soft wave of sensation ran over him, and the sweaty cling of his clothes disappeared. He made a vague grateful sound; they had been sticking uncomfortably to him. He still had his mask, though. Its weight was a comfort, since they _were_ still in Mementos. Shuffling noises slowly dripped into his awareness. The Shadows were probably drifting away now that he’d come.

Warmth bracketed his hips. Jumping, Akira’s hands jolted out, freezing when they hit bare skin, and he blinked wide eyes up at Abel’s smug grin.

“Did you think we were done?” Abel giggled. His voice didn’t even sound hoarse. “I’ve got more planned for you…if you’re willing, that is.”

Akira was sensitive enough that just Abel’s weight on him was near painful. “It’s really less of a question of _willingness_,” he said, gravel in his throat. The skin under his fingertips was smoother than porcelain, softer than rose petals, and he couldn’t help but stroke over it. Abel’s hips were knife sharp, his muscles powerful and deceptive in the slightness of his frame. It _really_ wasn’t a question of willingness, and Akira regretted how short he’d lasted. “And more of if I’m even capable of getting it up again after how hard you just made me come.”

Laughing again, Abel leaned down to purr across his lips, hands bracing himself on Akira’s stomach. “How about you let me worry about that, hmm?” Mischievous red eyes watched him, and Akira was caught by the playful power in his gaze. Breathless, he nodded, and light laughter fanned out between them. “Excellent.” Abel kissed him, hungrily taking him apart with teeth and tongue as his hands smoothed up his stomach.

His eyes had shut at the first press of lips, and it took long moments to realize a green glow was seeping through them. Pulling back just far enough to look around, Akira was met with the same dancing green light that had filled his room earlier. It wasn’t just lazily drifting around them though this time, and he watched as it swirled faster and faster, seeming to jump with his heartbeat.

“Ready?” Abel’s smile was excited and predatory, and Akira was suddenly wary.

“Wha-_ah!_” The word disappeared into a wail as what seemed to be a thousand watts of sheer pleasure hit him. He clawed at the hips in his grasp, desperately grinding his cock up against the soft ass on top of him. He’d never gone from soft to achingly hard this fast in his life, and he sobbed with the suddenness of it.

Casually, Abel shifted to get a hand around him, pumping him with soft, firm strokes. It felt like he’d never come, like he’d been reset to before Abel blew him. Gasping, he thrust into Abel’s elegant hand, near blind with need. Somewhere past his noisy breaths he could hear the Shadows shifting around them. They’d formed a circle with the pair of them in the center, apparently ready for the show to continue. Akira shut his eyes, perilously close to coming again, all over himself.

And then the hand disappeared. He couldn’t stop the frantic noise that escaped his throat as his eyes ripped open to stare, dazed and wet. Abel waggled sparkling fingers at him, still grinning. Akira watched as those fingers wrapped back around him, watched as Abel repositioned them, watched as he started to sink down onto his cock.

_Hot_ and _tight_ and _slick_ and _perfect_ and Akira groaned as Abel settled flush on his hips. He barely felt the back of his head hit the ground, much too focused on not immediately thrusting up and losing himself in Abel’s body. It wasn’t helping that Abel was rolling lazy circles with his hips, teasing sensation and a taste of what his body was begging for.

“Abel,” he managed to gasp, “Abel, _what the fuck?”_

“Hmmmm?” He leaned down so he’d be in Akira’s line of sight. Not that it did much, with how stars blinded him at the change in position. And Abel just _kept moving_. And smirking. Akira was like 90% sure he was still grinning that smug as fuck grin.

“Wha… What did you – _mngh_ – what did you do?” The ‘to me’ went unsaid, but Akira really didn’t think he had it in him to get those two extra words out. They were surely implied, right?

Abel dropped a playful kiss onto his jaw, warm lips pressing just below the corner of his mouth. He could feel them dragging across his skin as Abel murmured, “Why don’t you come again and I’ll show you?” Sitting up, he winked – _again_, he winked, why was Akira still weak to it – and picked up his pace.

A rough groan ripped its way out of his throat, out of his chest, as Akira watched him practically dance on his cock. His abs were rippling, mesmerizing and risqué, and he traced delicate lines up his own arms above his head. Over the sound of their skin, his grunts and moans, the Shadows were chattering and laughing. The pressure of their gazes was suffocating him, the knowledge that so many people were getting off watching him making the air thin in his lungs and the blood hot in his veins. Light fingers trailed their way up his chest, and Akira squirmed under the added sensation. Memento’s rough ground dug into his back. The fingers plucked at his skin, pricks of pain drawing cut off noises from his throat. Akira couldn’t focus, too many things to feel dragging his attention in too many directions. Heat chased the trails of Abel’s touch, swirled faster through him, pushed his hips up to meet Abel’s in a desperate bid for more. He thought he felt laughter under his fingertips, but tight muscles clenching around his cock drove out any hope of noticing anything other than how Abel’s body swallowed him over and over and _over_.

Dizzy pleasure washed through him, dragging prickling sparks along his nerves, and Akira could do nothing but feel as it shoved him closer and closer to the edge. Shuddering, shaking, on the edge of tears, Akira surrendered to it, fire racing down his bones and his heartbeat crashing in his ears. Gasping, he clutched at the slick skin under his nails, jolting with each oversensitive pulse of his cock. Abel rode him through it, and he whined incoherently, mind lost to the overwhelming heat.

Slowly, delicately, Abel settled against his hips again, cock still buried in him. Akira wanted to push him off, wanted to pull him closer, needed him to hold him down while he collected the pieces of his scattered sanity.

Abel watched him, waiting patiently for him to drag watery eyes up and focus back to the present. His smile dripped satisfaction, lazy hunger in half-closed red eyes. His hands were hovering up by his shoulders, carefully away from Akira’s skin as blue sparks danced around them. A light flush covered his cheeks, swept down his shoulders, but no trembles rocked him and no heaving breaths wrecked him. Akira couldn’t help but admire him, the poise and power hidden under his flirting.

A soft _a-hem_ snapped Akira’s eyes from where they were trailing down Abel’s chest back up to his face. His very smug, very kissable face. As if he could hear Akira’s thoughts, Abel huffed a laugh and leaned down to lip at his mouth. Akira chased after him, lifting his head just far enough to catch his lips and win a proper kiss. Giddy seconds passed before he let himself lay back down, sighing out a content noise. He felt like jelly, had a hot boy still in his lap, and honestly couldn’t think of a better situation to be in.

Unhurried, Abel sat back, hands still in the air. And glowing. Akira blinked at them; if they were glowing, then Abel was planning on using magic, or was using some then. And, yes, the green glow of magnetite was still floating around him, more sedate than before, and still pulsing with his heartbeat. He glanced back at Abel, raising a brow in question.

Abel stuck his tongue out at him. “I did say I’d explain, already.”

That did sound familiar, so Akira nodded.

“So, this is magnetite, just like I showed you back in your room, yeah?” Abel gestured at the glow, sparks flying off his fingers and spinning through the green. “Only, instead of just lighting up the ambient magnetite around us, this is your magnetite.”

“My magnetite?” Akira examined the light closer. It didn’t look any different than in his room, but he supposed that it being his would explain why it was matched to his heart.

Humming his agreement, Abel continued. “It takes honestly a ridiculous amount of effort, but if you can affect a person’s magnetite, then you can affect their mind and body. I imagine it’s kinda like the opposite of how you summon demons? That would be the best way to explain it, I guess.”

“So…” He thought he knew what Abel was getting at. “You’re manipulating my body’s responses based on your grasp of my magnetite?”

“Yep! Though I’m not doing much, really. Just kinda convincing it that you haven’t come yet, and that you really want to do that.” A careless shrug shifted Abel’s body, like he truly thought that wasn’t much at all.

“You’re manipulating my nervous system, my cardiovascular system, and my muscular system – so basically everything in my body except for my guts and my bones – in order to give me serial orgasms. And that’s ‘not doing much’?” Akira tried to force his voice flat, but laughter underlined every word. Not doing much. And Akira was just a student.

“Well… Okay you’ve got me there,” Abel giggled. “So what do you say? Personally, I’m in the mood to fuck you until you literally can’t remember your name.” He wiggled his fingers at him again, sparks falling onto his stomach and lighting up the nerves there. The Shadows around them murmured encouragingly, shuffling closer.

Let it never be said that Akira backed down from a challenge. He let Joker’s smirk slide over his face as he reached for Abel’s wrist, pulling one sparkling hand close. He watched Abel’s face through lowered eyelashes, watched as the hunger in his gaze sharpened. “Show’s not over yet,” he breathed against the palm he held captive, then pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the base. He shuddered as the sparks touched him, fleet bolts of energy shocking him and zipping down his body. From the corner of his eye, he could see Abel’s own grin widen, expose teeth sharper than he’d seen on some Shadows.

“No,” Abel purred, “it’s not.”

This time Akira was prepared for the electric drowning of pleasure the magnetite caused. He moaned, feeling his cock harden inside of Abel. He wrapped his hands around Abel’s hips, pulled him close and thrust deep. A hitched breath was his reward, and he repeated the motion. Much as he would enjoy being ridden to oblivion, he had another plan. One that would hopefully pull more of those noises out of his much too composed partner. One hand drifted across pale skin to trace the divots of Abel’s spine. A shudder ripped through Abel, his body rippling and ass tightening around his cock. Hot desire eating away at his thoughts, Akira braced his hand on Abel’s back and trailed fingertips over his spine again. Bursting into motion with the resulting shudder, Akira rolled them, grinning down at Abel’s wide eyes. He squeezed Abel’s thighs, pushing them further apart and feeling the hard muscles flex under his hands. He thrust lightly, playfully, teasing Abel as he’d been teased.

Abel just melted onto the ground, rolling up into his shallow thrusts and eyes drifting nearly shut with a pleased look. A low sound rumbled out of him, and one hand dug into the stone of the ground, the other tangling in Akira’s hair. It pulled his head down, and slick wetness traced the edge of his ear. Cool air followed it, and he helplessly buried himself deeper, groaning. Laughter like the crackling of fire brushed across the side of his face, the hand in his hair twisting slightly as Abel fucked himself on his cock. The Shadows tittered above him, and Akira gasped into the skin of Abel’s throat. He couldn’t help but follow Abel’s rhythm, strong and deep and slow. Molten pleasure was bubbling at the base of his spine, the stinging pain of the stone on his knees and the hand in his hair urging it on.

The hand pulled on his hair harder, and, high-pitched whine escaping, Akira was forced to raise his head, exposing his throat. Teeth nipped up his jugular, bright blooms of pain causing his hips to stutter. Hot breath wafted over the fragile skin under his chin. He trembled, held in place and captive. Unable to do anything but wait in the clutches of the mischievous boy under him. Abel’s hips hadn’t stopped rolling, and Akira fought to stay still in his grasp and keep up with him. A flick of tongue touched the bruise on the corner his jaw, sending a shiver shooting down his spine. Soft lips traced the delicate line of his throat, mouthed at the exposed line of his trachea. Teeth buried themselves on either side of it, and Akira could feel how his moan vibrated against their sharp points. Helplessly, he shuddered, hot shards of arousal ripping through his body. Abel trailed his other hand down his back, nails tracing lines of sensation across his skin. It was too much, pain and heat and lust and delight layering atop each other again and again, round and round. Slim fingers came to rest tucked just under his tailbone, stroking gentle pressure against sensitive skin, and Akira sobbed. He thrust once, twice more, shaking apart under the weight of the inferno of his third orgasm.

He hadn’t even caught his breath before the shock of Abel’s magic lit him up again. Caught between drunken lassitude and electric need, he felt himself move, desperately fucking into Abel. Vaguely, he realized that Abel’s teeth had let him go, that a warm tongue was lapping over the bruises he could feel blooming on his throat. Akira whined a fractious noise, and suddenly was on his back, Abel riding him again. His wrists were caught in a tight grip above his head. He pulled on them, felt how Abel’s hold didn’t shift even as he ground their hips together. Akira gasped, choked, shouted as rapture dragged him under again.

And Abel flooded him with his magic again.

And again.

And again.

And again and again and again.

All he knew was Abel’s skin, Abel’s touch, Abel’s magic. The Shadows surrounding them roared in the background, or was that his heart, his breath? He didn’t know, couldn’t tell, couldn’t care. Rattling echoed through the tunnels but Abel’s laughter eclipsed it and he drowned in the feel of shifting muscles. Motion and a flash of light caught tearful vision. Over Abel’s shoulder, something drifted closer, dark and slow.

The Reaper.

His heart jumped, skipped then sped, his gasped warnings cut off by hitched breaths and delirious moans. Dizzy, he watched it pause, watched it catch sight of them. Watched it creep ever closer and whined as Abel played his body, winding him up higher and higher, burning pleasure roiling through him. Watched it cock its gun, aim it just inches behind Abel’s head. He was so close, so close, he just needed one more second, one more _touch_. The Reaper was going to kill them but he just needed to come so bad, just a little more_–_

_BANG!_

Darkness ripped him away from himself, body near convulsing.

Seconds, hours, _centuries_ later, he dragged his eyes open. He was on his back, on the floor of Mementos, his tailcoat draped over him. Blinking, thoughts stuck in molasses, he slowly took stock of himself. He felt like he’d just tried to solo a Palace, and wasn’t sure if he’d been successful at it.

“Oh! Our dear Cinderella awakens!”

The cheerful words were chirped from just next to him, and he let his head roll towards the person. Blue hair, red eyes… “Abel,” he croaked.

“That’s me!” Practically bouncing in place, he grinned, his whole face scrunching up adorably. “You should drink something.” He snapped, a water bottle appearing in a shower of blue sparkles.

Dragging himself upright, he reached for the bottle. It was already open, and he gratefully chugged it down. A second bottle was offered, and he dumped it over his head, shaking the water out of his eyes.

“Hey, Akira…”

He hummed a response, ruffling his hair to try to get some of the water out.

“Look at me a sec?”

Akira blinked at him, but obediently held still as Abel turned his face one way, then the other. He nodded sharply, sitting back.

“You blacked out pretty hard on that last round. But you look fine now, so no harm done.” A wave of his fingers and Akira found himself clothed in his normal Metaverse gear. Abel had donned his original clothes and cape, as well.

The light glinting off Abel’s headphones reminded him. “Hey, Abel,” he called, standing and brushing the dirt off his pants. “The Reaper…did it really…?”

“Did it really show up?” Abel waited for his nod. “Yup! Rude of him to try to interrupt though.” He stretched, arms over his head, shirt riding up just enough to show a strip of skin. “It was annoying to get shot in the middle of coming.” Collapsing back down to normal, he shot Akira a sharp smile. “It regretted that decision.”

Akira just stared at him, incredulous. It was all his team could do to escape with their lives the few times they’d been caught unawares by the Reaper.

“Anyway! I like this world! Do you mind if I hang around for a bit?” Abel was walking backwards, back towards the way they’d come from.

Following him, Akira shook his head. “Not at all. I can see if Boss will let you stay with me. Though…” he grimaced. “I don’t think I’m up for a repeat performance any time soon.”

Abel giggled. “That’s okay! I need to recharge a bit anyway, I haven’t used that much magic in one go in a while. Totally worth it though.” He winked, and Akira felt himself flush under the mask.

“Yeah,” he murmured, watching as Abel fiddled with his headphones. “It was.”


End file.
